SPEED BRAKES ... SPEED BRAKES ... GO!

The T-33 Silver Star and the F-86 Sabre had small
speed-brake panels on the bottom and side of the fuselage, respectively and, to
be charitable, they were adequate. The CF-100 Canuck, on the other hand, was
endowed with massive serrated-edge speed brakes on the upper and lower surfaces
of the wing and they were very impressive and effective.

The speed-brake selector switch, mounted on the forward face of the right-hand
throttle lever, was identified as Drag Flaps for some strange reason - no one
ever called them "drag flaps" ; they were always called "speed
brakes" or "dive brakes". In actual fact they were spoilers.

The CF-100 was never flown with speed brakes extended during the final turn or
approach to the runway because of the high sink-rate or premature stall that
inevitably resulted. This fact was driven home to us when we began our CF-100
training at RCAF Station Cold Lake, Alberta. Only months before there had been
a tragic fatal accident when a CF-100 crashed on final approach - the cause was
improper use of the speed brakes.

On March 25, 1957 I had my first dual flight in the CF-100 with my instructor,
Don Lamont. As we got station passage for our radio beacon instrument approach
I eased the nose down, threw out the speed brakes, and promptly left the seat,
much to the amusement of Don in the back seat - talk about deceleration! We
soon got used to it but as a courtesy I always gave my navigator a few seconds
warning when the speed brakes were coming out so he could brace himself.

In October, 1959, 428 Ghost Squadron participated in Operation Checkerboard at
RCAF Station Chatham, New Brunswick, home of the F-86 Operational Training Unit
(OTU).

One afternoon, on a day when we were scheduled for night missions, I managed to
scrounge a CF-100 to take up a hometown (Toronto) buddy, Flying Officer George
Peck, a student on the F-86 OTU.

The trip went well and George amused himself playing with the radar set,
eventually picking up a target. With a little coaching he got me a lock-on and
we attacked and "splashed" an F-86 which had been stooging along
without watching for "bandits".

The pilot, an instructor, unaware that he was officially "dead",
asked if he could join up for a little formation. As we got closer to the
airfield and preparing to descend I advised him that our speed brakes were very
effective and that he should anticipate them a bit to stay with us. His reply
was a nonchalant, "Rog" (short for Roger), so I called, "Speed
brakes ... speed brakes ... Go!"

Almost immediately George began chuckling and described what had happened - the
F-86 had wobbled left and right, then went sailing by in a near-vertical bank
to miss our wing, its tiny speed brakes frantically clawing the air trying to
slow down. I looked over and sure enough, our Sabre was gone.